Blown Away
by InactiveNoLongerUsed
Summary: Not everybody is a fair-weather friend.


**Okay, so this was a story I wrote up a few days ago and decided that I would just publish it and see what people thought. It's not very polished, though, so be warned.**

**I've recently started to become fascinated with Draco/Astoria and their relationship. It must have been difficult at first because it's not like Draco is a) an easy person or b) in society's good view etc. by the time he married Astoria. So this is just a little snippet I thought might have happened.**

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The lake stretched out in front of him, glittering black in the moonlight. He remembered being afraid of the lake when he was a child, not sure of whether the tales of the Giant Squid were true or whether all those vicious merpeople his mother had told him about were out to get him if he went too close. He had never been very fond of the lake, perhaps because of his over-reactive childhood imagination. Tonight, though, he wished that he could stay here forever. He didn't want to lose this part of his childhood, didn't like knowing that this was the last time he would see the lake as a student. Tomorrow was graduation, not that he was very welcome at the graduation party that the students would no doubt throw. Not after he and his family had followed the Dark Lord. He had even chosen the Dark Lord's side at the final Battle.

Draco remembered believing that his future was going to be brilliant, filled with riches, fame and respect. He had always thought he would graduate with all honours, and everybody would have been beaming at him or bowing to him (figuratively if not literally). Now he realised that his future wasn't going to be like that at all. He might still have some money, but what was that when nobody thought of him with respect, when the only fame he would get was for being one of the youngest Death Eaters to have a trial that would ultimately end in Azkaban. He wanted followers, not people who treated him as though he were dirt.

"It's okay, Draco," Astoria whispered from beside him, her voice so quiet that it could have been just a breath of wind. She slipped her hand into his. "Potter said that he would do his best to see that you didn't go to Azkaban. You might have done bad things, Draco, but not bad enough for _that_."

Draco closed his eyes. Just a few years ago, he would have been delighted to find out that he would one day work for the Dark Lord, swelled with smugness at this 'opportunity'. Now he found himself regretting the day he had agreed to followed Voldemort. It had only caused him pain and trouble. "You don't understand. I chose to become a Death Eater. I don't want to go to Azkaban, but I decided to go along with everything. I didn't say a word against him."

Astoria snorted with disbelief. "So this is the mighty Draco Malfoy, not fighting or anything but whimpering in the corner like a coward, saying 'It's alright, I deserve it'. Whatever happened to your feeling of superiority, looking down on everybody as though we were all Muggles?"

"I suppose it disappeared when my family's reputation became nothing better than dirt," he said wryly, somehow finding it amusing. His eyes flickered open again and he glanced at her, struck by a sudden thought. Why was she still here? She was a Slytherin, from the House that prided itself on masters of the self-preservation instinct. The House that also produced snobs and society-climbers, as well as a few thug-like beings.

Her gaze softened slightly, and she tugged her cloak around her more tightly as a breeze rippled across the lake towards them. "I know, Draco. It's a bit of a situation, isn't it?"

"You can say that again," Draco murmured. There was a long pause as he continued to puzzle at her presence, slowly growing angrier by the minute as reasons revealed themselves to him. Suddenly, his voice suspicious, he growled. "Why are you still here, Astoria? Do you want to watch me suffer? Do you want to see my reputation ground into the floor at my trial? You should be out there. You still have a life. A _good_ reputation.I know you're a Slytherin, but you aren't acting much like one at the moment."

Another pause as she digested his words, eyes turning furious as she understood what he was trying to say. She let go of his hand. "Are you saying that I'm here with you know because I _want_ to see you humiliated? That I'm here for fun? You know, I may not be _eighteen_ and oh-so-grown-up, but I am old enough to make my own decisions. I know what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. I have a life and I'm living it. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes," his eyes narrowed. "I actually do. When I was your age, I chose to become a Death Eater. I thought I was old enough to make my own choices without help. You know what? It was one of the worst decisions I've ever made and probably am ever going to make."

She sighed huffily. "You're stupid, you know that?"

As though in agreement, an owl hooted from somewhere nearby. They were now both facing each other, angrier than before. It wasn't exactly uncommon that they argued, but this was something different. Something more important than their previous arguments.

"Fine. Why do you want to stay with me then? Give me one good reason."

"One? You want me to give you _one_ good reason?" Astoria laughed bitterly. She could have given him hundreds if he had only asked. "How about the fact that you're my friend? That I'm not one of those fair-weather friends like Parkinson. I'm Slytherin, but not all Slytherins are disloyal. If, in that stupid, inflated ego of yours, you imagine that maybe I'm staying with you because I pity you, then you're wrong. You don't deserve pity, Draco. -" he flinched slightly - "You're a human being. An equal. Why would I pity my equal?"

Draco ground his teeth, although what she had said had surprised him. As had the bitter laugh. Why was _she_ being bitter? It was supposed to be him who was the bitter one, wasn't it? He waited for her to go on, though, sensing that she wasn't finished yet. From past experience, he had discovered it was better for her to say everything she wanted to say at once, so that she could calm down and see reason.

"And... and... how about the fact that... I love you," Astoria said quietly, anger seeming to drain away from her. Her fists were clenched and she gazed out at the lake, not wanting to look at him. "Is that good enough for you? Or do you want a better one? Because, if you do, I haven't got one."

He breathed in deeply. There was something telling him he had to be careful. Choose his words wisely. Several sentences that would answer her popped into his mind, but he dismissed them. The silence lengthened and the sounds of the night came alive, louder and louder to him as he struggled to find something appropriate to say. He settled on the most simple.

"I... suppose that that's a good enough reason for me."

She smiled slightly, and the tension disappeared from the air as though blown away by the breeze.


End file.
